black; died, the colour of your coffin,

black; the colour you hate the most. there’s black everywhere; the paved road, the street signs, the skyscrapers we pass by. everywhere i look,black is all i see. you say that you dread it, but why does it remind me so much of you? maybe it’s because black surrounds you; it’s the colour of your pupils, the colour of your hair, the colour of the drawings you sketched of me, the colour of the kitten we took in,the colour of the tattoos we got of each other’s names, the colour of the watch you gave me on our first anniversary, the colour of the sky on the night you died, the colour of your coffin, the colour of the words etched on your tombstone. black is now the colour of my heart, because without you, everything is black. b l u e blue; the colour of the sky and the sea,  azure plains that seemed to never end. i thought blue represented us, never ending. but here i am, living without you. but am i really living at all? i want to forget about the colour blue; the colour of your favourite pair of skinny jeans, the colour of the cupcake we shared on our first date, the colour of the soap you used that made you smell like blueberries, the colour of your lips when they found you. i want to forget the colour blue; because to me, the colour blue meant forever, and that was what we couldn’t have. y e l l o w yellow; the colour of the curtains in your room, the colour of the teddy bear i won for you when i brought you to the carnival, the colour of the necklace clasped around your neck, the colour of the trophies that adorned our room from the art competitions you won,the colour of my heart when i was with you, the colour of the flowers at your funeral. yellow is the colour of the stupidly adorable cartoon character you loved, maybe even a little more than me (though you beg to differ). yellow is the colour of the ribbon i have tied round my wrist, in the hopes you’ll return home.yellow is the colour of the clothes we picked out for her, before we even had the chance to bring her home. i want to remember yellow, because you were the sunshine to my rainstorm. i want to remember the colour yellow, because you were my primrose to my katniss. i want to remember the colour yellow, because you were the star that chased away my darkness, but a star as bright as you couldn’t shine forever. p u r p l e purple; the colour of my face when i received the call,the colour of the sedan you owned.  purple was the colour of the sedan i wish you didn’t own, because if you didn’t, you would still be in my arms. purple was everything wrong with my life; it was the colour of the bruises left by my father’s fist, the colour of the plate he had thrown at me, the colour of the bottles strewn on the ground, the colour of my mother’s face as she screamed for me to leave, the colour of the scars that littered my skin with imperfections, the colour of the tears i wept. they say purple symbolises royalty, but why did i feel anything butwhen i was covered in it? purple bullets pelted me as they flung purple speech, purple speech that eased its way under my skin, and sprouted purple thorns that stabbed through my flesh.purple is the colour of the clouds that shrouded me, is the colour of the darkness i fell right into, is the colour of the pit i couldn’t climb out of. you were the sun parted the clouds; the torchlight that i stumbled upon after countless years of fumbling in the dark, the north star i followed when my compass was broken. you sowed seeds in my heart, watered it with your playful grins and mesmerising smile, and made it bloom the most beautiful shade of yellow.but you died enveloped in purple, and my life was suddenly cloaked in it once again. purple bullets formed again; purple bullets that rammed right into my yellow heart, as my heart turned into the ugliest shade of muddy brown, before it hardened to onyx stone. i want to burn the colour purple, because it mocks me, knowing that the only thing ever good in my life was you. r a i n b o w rainbow; the colour of the sprinkles you put on your ice cream every time, the colour of the wedding cake we picked out together, the colour of the flags we waved every june. rainbow was your favourite colour because you said you didn’t want any colour to feel sad, but now, rainbow is the colour that reminds me most of you. if black surrounds you, then rainbow is you; the colour of your silvery laugh, the colour of your beaming smile, the colour of your eyes as they turn into crescents. maybe it’s because your rainbow was shining too bright, maybe it’s because dark is attracted to light, maybe that’s why. g r e e n green; the colour of your birthstone, the colour of the four-leaved clovers that you said brought good luck. how spitefully ironic; it’s the colour of your birthstone,It’s the colour of the four-leaved clovers that you said brought you good luck. people love the colour green; they say it represents peace; almost worship it, meditating with olive crowns atop their heads. yet,whenever i see  it’s the only colour that flashes in my mind, as that green-eyed monster bares its fangs again. perhaps it’s because they get to hold each other’s hands, when the only hands i can hold are mine; perhaps it’s because they get to hold each other’s hearts, when mine has been already trampled on more times than i can count. green is the hint of colour peeking through as i glance at the window, that reminds me it’s been three months since that cold winter’s night. green is the colour of the honeycreeper that lands on my windowsill, the first sign of life – like the earth’s been reborn again. green is the colour of the maybe, just maybe, i’ll listen to the colour green, because as much as i don’t want to let you go, it’s about time i start to. r e d red; it’s everywhere. red; i see you, surrounded in a scarlet haze. red; i see you,dripping in crimson as you cease to breathe. red; i see you, and i cannot help but picture you in the red-hot flames. red; i see him, that pathetic fool in handcuffs as he babbles an incoherent apology, in hopes the police will spare him.  red; i see him; offering a half-hearted apology,as if those words could miraculously bring back the dead. red; i see him; the judge sentencing him to twenty years in jail, as he protests that hitting your gas tank was purely an accident. red; i see him; as the fool attempts to reduce his sentence; claiming that you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, that it was your fault that you were now buried six feet under. red; all i can see, as i empty my bottled feelings, as i seeth at his audacity, that he dared to even utter a word knowing that he had taken your life sixty years too early. red; all i can see, as i lunge forward, fist after fist to his face, screaming that a lifetime in jail would never bring you back. red; all i can remember before it turns black. w h i t e white; the colour of the thirty pills i had swallowed, the colour of the hospital bed i woke up in, the colour of the machine monitoring my heartbeat, the colour of the four blank walls suffocating me. doctors came in wearing ivory gowns; talking in muffled voices that seemed further and further away, my mother beside me, taking my porcelain hand in hers, mouthing words shakily. i close my eyes and all i see is white, and i slowly let the white consume me,